


Wild Card

by RumblyStomach



Category: Grand Theft Auto V, Grand Theft Auto V Online
Genre: GTA, GTAV - Freeform, Grand Theft Auto V - Freeform, Grand Theft Auto V Online - Freeform, Heists, Traffic, Violence, assault rifle, buccaneer, car crash, driving fast, elegy rh8, gta o, gtao, gun - Freeform, melee, snadking, speed - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumblyStomach/pseuds/RumblyStomach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to play a heist with a random fourth person can be difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Card

The plan was projected on the screen at the front of the room, like a PowerPoint lecture in community college. There was a white board with notes and diagrams drawn on it and a bulletin board with printouts and pictures posted to it next to the projection. Lester stood at the front of the room slouched over his cane explaining to the group what the purpose of this heist was, and all the stages involved in it. His audience was a group of the four toughest, battle worn and probably insane mercenaries that the streets of Los Santos had to offer.

Two men dressed in clean white bulletproof business suits and matching fedoras stood leaning against the bookshelf unit built into the wall of the room. One wore sunglasses, and the other was smoking a cigarette. These men were known as the Bullet Twins; Alpha smokes, and Beta doesn’t.

A woman sat relaxed in an armchair with her feet up on the coffee table, drinking scotch from a square glass. She wore her hair back in a tight professional ponytail and donned a black sweater with black jeans, she had a duffel bag filled with ammunition and weapons laying on the floor next to her. She liked to go by G.

The last guy had a messy biker mohawk and a white and black painted face. He wore black plaid board shorts and a pink Love Fist muscle shirt. He wore orange running shoes with no socks and was trying to see how long he could balance his assault rifle, stood up, in the palm of his hand. They called him Juice.

“Alright so that’s the plan, everybody got it?” Lester announced to the group. They all silently looked in his direction as if just noticing that he was there. “Hmm yeah, I’ll take that as a yes. Alright get to the rendezvous then!” Lester waved his hands in a shooing motion toward the door.

The group wordlessly rose from their positions, collected their things and walked out of the heist room. G called the elevator while Alpha grabbed another pack of smokes, and Juice opened a beer. Beta waited by the window, admiring the view of the Vinewood Hills from his and his brother’s penthouse. The elevator pinged and they all piled in, pressing the button for the ground floor.

Once outside, G hopped the wall and climbed into her lifted blackout Sandking XL, turned and drove over the curb, joining the thin morning traffic. The Bullet Twins jumped in their lowered Forest green Buccaneer and peeled a donut out of the parking lot. Juice slide across the hood of his purple and white Elegy RH8, got in, lowered the windows and revved the car up onto the sidewalk, nearly missing a few shoppers who threw their bags to jump out of the way, yelling obscenities at him. Juice threw his beer bottle out the window and flipped them the bird as he left, speeding along the street leaving a purple-black tire smoke trail behind him.

“I hired you because you’re Los Santos’ best! Quit screwing around and get to the damn meeting point!” As Juice was driving he checked his GPS, oh so Lester’s angry cry _was_ directed at him. The blips that represented the other drivers were already almost at the truckyard where they were to meet. Juice floored it, feeling the engine working hard, sending the car flying over the dips and hills of the road.

A red light up ahead made the other drivers on the road put their brakes on, but not Juice. He swerved over to the left side of the street, narrowly avoiding angrily honking cars and trucks, Juice rocketed through the intersection cutting off a large Piswasser 18 wheeler. The truck just barely nicked the back bumper of Juice’s car, and sent him spinning and flipping across the street.

-

The three that were on time were already gathered in the parking lot of the truckyard. The place had little to no signs of any recent activity. The front chain link gate was fallen in after what seemed like years of no maintenance, which provided an easy entrance for G’s Sandking to drive in, pummeling the metal under massive tires. The parking lot was old and greyed with tall weeds growing out of the cracks in the pavement. There was a one-story cement office-looking building with boarded up windows. The mile of property behind the building was filled with graffiti sprayed trucks and trailers, all overgrown and broken down, never to drive again.

G was leaning against her Sandking with her hands splayed out gripping the big tire in frustration. She was stomping her foot against the ground in angry impatience. The Bullet Twins waited with anticipation; Alpha was smoking three cigarettes at a time and pacing the ground around the Buccaneer nervously. Beta was sitting on a concrete barrier outside of the closed office sipping a Hi-C juice box.

The only thing that G heard past the mad blood pumping in her ears was the slurping sound of Beta reaching the end of his juice box. She straightened up slowly and turned her head toward the noise. Lester said something through the headsets but she couldn’t hear him over her growing rage. She quickly walked over to where Beta sat on the concrete and snatched the juice box from his grasp, leaving him with just the straw in his mouth, looking up at her.

She crushed the box in her grip, causing it to make a sad wheeze as air and the remaining droplets of juice sprayed from the straw hole in the top. G turned to the chain smoking Alpha, who stared back silently. She gestured to the juice box and then put her arms out as if to say “What gives!” Alpha and Beta both shrug and G sighs, exasperated and throws the juice box to the ground and sulks back over to her truck.

-

The Elegy was ripped almost to shreds as it gained altitude and smashed into the side of the parking garage on the corner of the intersection. Juice was stunned for a few moments but was able to recover. He successfully flipped the car back over onto its wheels and managed to get the nearly destroyed car to go at most 40 mph along the highway. Now he was really late, G and the Twins must have been getting impatient.

About ten minutes later, with Lester ferociously shouting into his ear about curfews and wasted time, Juice dragged what was left of his car into the parking lot of the truckyard. He walked up to the frustrated group doing a jazz hands taunt.

G jumped from her perch on the tailgate of the Sandking, and made her way over to Juice. She got right up close to him and slam the side of his head with her pistol.

**_Shoom, bink! HEIST FAILED. Juice was killed._ **

“Aw come on! Seriously G?! You know how long a setup takes, why did you do that!” Alpha jumped up from the gaming chair in his living room, shouting into his headset.

“A rando without a mic has to learn his lesson,” G said calmly from her room on the other side of the country.

“Alright, alright. Calm down guys,” Beta hissed into his mic. “One of my friends just logged on, I’ll invite him. No wild cards this time I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am Juice and this is how I feel every time I join a heist online. I feel like I'm in the way and keeping them from getting shit done and just accidentally being a troll. So oops sorry if you run into me online.


End file.
